


The Grandest Stage

by panchostokes (badwolfrun)



Series: Prompt Fics [54]
Category: CSI: Crime Scene Investigation
Genre: Angst, Gen, Humiliation, Hurt/Comfort, Hypnotism, M/M, Nick Stokes Whump, Nick does NOT have a fun time but does he ever in my fics, Rated T for Trashmouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-03
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:06:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22535965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/badwolfrun/pseuds/panchostokes
Summary: Nick and Greg see a hypnotist act, and Nick is a less than willing volunteer.
Relationships: Greg Sanders & Nick Stokes, Greg Sanders/Nick Stokes
Series: Prompt Fics [54]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1540795
Kudos: 6





	The Grandest Stage

**Author's Note:**

  * For [deltajackdalton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/deltajackdalton/gifts).



> shoutout to both delta and 12percentplan with help on brainstorming on this!! How realistic is this? probably not very but I hope y’all enjoy anyway (even though spoiler alert Nick certainly is not gonna)

In a roulette wheel of Las Vegas stage shows, Nick and Greg landed themselves in a comedy show–one that both of them were looking forward to, one that had amazing reviews, hysterical jokes that would surely have them in stitches…

And with the warm-up act being a hypnotist.

It started innocently enough, as the hypnotist explained what he does before he asked for “volunteers.”

“Volunteers” was a very loose descriptor, as Nick, who had already slunk down in his seat to make himself seem smaller, less visible, hiding his face with the mask of his wrist as he whispered to his date, “ _oh, god, not me,”_ was of course, picked out of the crowd.

“C’mon, it’ll be a good laugh!” Greg had clapped in delight, nudging Nick in the shoulder to get up from his seat as the audience cheered him on. 

“If I see any video of this I’m smashing your phone,” Nick growled as he brushed past Greg, who was still clapping with the definition of smug on his face. 

“There he is, man of the hour! Tell me, son, what’s your name?” the hypnotist asked as Nick approached the stage. 

“Nick.”

“Nick, alright, Nick, what do you do for a living, Nick?”

Nick looked back out into the audience, to try and spot Greg as he answered, but was meant with a sea of shadows underneath blinding, glaring spotlights. He wondered if this is how the evidence felt, scrutinized underneath a microscope lens. 

“I’m a criminalist for the LVPD.”

“The LVPD, huh? Guess I better do a good job or I’ll get arrested then,” the hypnotist quipped, and Nick realized just how _fast_ the man was talking.

The audience that Nick couldn’t see sizzled with laughter. 

“Well, then, Nick, you ever been hypnotized before?”

Not for lack of trying, his therapist would point out if he was there with them.

“No, sir.”

“Ooh, ‘sir,’ I like that, what a polite young man you are, Nick. Alright, well then, _Nick,_ you know the reason I picked out out, don’t you?” 

“Cause I’m so good looking?” Nick tried to quip through his nervousness, he felt warmth radiate in his cheeks. 

The hypnotist chuckled, “No, no, wasn’t just for that although you are quite the…specimen, I must say. No, Nick, the reason I chose you is you look a little tense, buddy.”

The hypnotist put his hand on Nick’s shoulder, squeezed it. 

“Seems like you could do with a little _relaxing._ You got some tension in this bulky body of yours, why don’t we let it out, yeah?” 

“Guess you gotta point there…” Nick muttered sheepishly, and the hypnotist clapped him on the shoulder.

“Wonderful, glad you agree! Always more fun when the participant is willing, isn’t it? I know, I know, the irony in that statement given what I’m about to do to you–oh, goodness, why are you looking at me like that, Nick?” 

The audience, once again laughed as Nick had raised his eyebrows at the man’s poor taste in comments about consent, and Nick felt the urge to just bolt off of the stage and out of the theater. 

It wouldn’t be the last time that he had that urge.

“I’m just messing with you, son,” Nick already hated the way this man spoke to him. “Don’t worry, this is hypnotism, not mind control. Now, I got this big, comfy chair, just for you, I want you to pop a squat right there, Nick…”

He guided Nick to large armchair which had been rolled on stage, Nick sat down and had to admit to himself that it was just a _little_ comfortable.

“You got your phone on you, Nick?”

Nick nodded. 

“On silent? Or pleasure mode?”

The audience piqued with laughter as Nick shook his head with a gentle chuckle of his own, dug his phone out and turned it off. 

“And that goes for all of you, as well, lovely viewers, we can’t allow for any distractions during this process, don’t our poor bird here to fly away because he hears a ringtone version of ‘Baby Got Back.’“

More laughter from the audience, and Nick sank into the chair at the comparison of him to a bird, though thinking of birds had sent a shot of serotonin through his system. 

“We’re gonna dim the lights…”

The spotlights faded, and the crowd became a bit more distinguishable as Nick’s eyes adjusted to the darkness. For one fleeting moment, he was able to pick out Greg’s face in the crowd from the soft spikes in his hair. 

“Close your eyes, Nick…And… _relax._ ”

Nick frowned as he closed his eyes. He did _not_ like where this was going, and certainly did not feel relaxed in the slightest.

“I want you to really settle into that chair, now, Nick, alright? Settle in so well that you don’t want to move,” Nick felt a shudder as the man’s words had suddenly become low, monotonous, almost… _soothing._

“Follow the sound of my voice, Nick. Tell me, where did you grow up?”

“Texas, sir.”

“Texas, well, no wonder you’re so polite. Your Momma did a great job raising you, didn’t she?”

Nick nodded, though he didn’t know why.

“You’re doing great, Nick. Just great. Now, I want you to imagine you’re walking down a staircase, you’ve been down a staircase before, yeah? Just step by step…one foot down, and then the other…”

Nick pictured the staircase back at the ranch, the one leading from the hallway to his room to the kitchen downstairs, where his mother was making his favorite dinner and desert. He could smell the meat and the vegetables and pie radiating through the vents. The hypnotist’s voice had faded out, but came back in stereo.

“You’re reaching the bottom of the staircase, and you…stop.”

Nick stopped at the last step, his eyes wandered to a picture of his entire family, bright eyed with bright smiles, staring into Nick’s soul, but the position where Nick’s father would be was filled with the hypnotist, still speaking to him.

“You like birds, don’t you, Nick? It’s okay, you can nod in this position.”

Nick nodded.

“Do you want to spread your wings out like one, Nick? And fly down that final step?”

Nick felt his arms spread out, and he felt as if her feet had lifted off of the air, as if he were floating. He couldn’t seem to control himself, as his hands began to rise, and fall, rise, and fall, guiding his arms to flap as if he were waving them through water. 

“Rise, Nick. Rise up, and fly away, little bird.” 

He felt his body rise up, his backside, which had warmed as he had sat in the chair suddenly felt cold, exposed as his feet hit the floor of the ranch–no, he wasn’t at the ranch, he was on a stage, Greg was in the audience, watching him, he kept telling himself.

But his arms were still flapping. 

“Open your eyes, Nick, and see the crowd beneath you. You’re _soaring_ above them, go ahead, take a lap around the chair and see for yourself!”

Nick’s eyes opened, the spotlight had brightened by a shade, but he could still see Greg–though he lost focus of the man in his dizziness as he followed the suggestion, flapping his arms and taking a lap around the chair, before returning to the center of the stage. 

Under the microscope.

“Excellent, Nick, excellent. Everyone, give our Nick a hand here!” 

The audience clapped, and Nick almost smiled, they enjoyed it, seeing this beautiful bird flying around the stage with such majesty. 

“Now, Nick, I bet those wings of yours are getting tired, aren’t they? Perhaps you should…rest.” 

Nick’s arms dropped to his sides, and he found that the stage lights had dimmed again, his eyes re-focused, he found Greg, who was smiling proudly. He felt his own surge of pride, he was having a good time, this was almost a little…fun. Felt like being drunk without having any alcohol.

“Now, Nick, I gotta say…don’t ask me how I know this, but you definitely seem like a dog person, aren’t you?” 

“Yes…sir…” Nick drawled out slowly, the words as thick as butter.

“You ever think about how a dog might view the world? Huh? Have you ever tried sitting like one? Go ahead, _sit, Nick.”_

Nick felt his knees buckle beneath him, and he fell to the floor with grace, perching himself on the soles of his feet, with his hands down between his legs. His parents let him get away with goofy behavior like that, anyway.

“Good boy!” The hypnotist cooed.

The audience laughed.

 _Greg_ laughed, somewhere among them, the lights had brightened, he could no longer see him.

Not that he’d be able to see him anyway, cause he was at home, in the living room, watching the crowd on television.

“It’s getting pretty hot in here, isn’t it, Nick?” The hypnotist pointed out, and rightfully so–Nick felt so hot under the intense beams of the spotlight, he opened his mouth, began to pant in exaggerated fashion. He looked up expectantly at the hypnotist, who had a malicious smile on his face.

“And you’re probably getting hungry, aren’t you, Nick? Hungry like _a wolf?”_

Nick didn’t know why, but he let out a _howl_ in response. 

But the crowd _roared_ in return, with such uproarious laughter from the television that seemed to expand and reach out, engulf Nick whole. Nick had already felt small, but he felt even smaller as observed the hypnotist looming above him, laughing from deep within his stomach. 

They weren’t laughing _with_ him, because he wasn’t laughing, not anymore. 

And just like that, Nick’s feelings of security diminished with the rest of his pride.

And control of his body altogether.

He felt something warm spread in his crotch, the smell of his mother’s cooking replaced with the foul stench of urine. 

“Uh-oh, seems like someone had a little accident! I thought they told me you were potty trained, Nick!” 

The audience continued to laugh, though had the volume had notably lessened. 

Nick just wanted to leave, and yet, his body was still glued to the floor, kneeling, like a dog. 

And not only that, but he was _whining,_ wishing he could speak the words– _Please, just let me go–_

The hypnotist must have a day job as a mind reader, because he did release Nick, but not without some more laughs at his expense.

“Looks like we’re gonna have to send you to the doghouse, Nick. I want you to go back up those stairs, and come back to me on the grandest stage of them all right here in LAS VEGAS! Let’s all give Nick a hand!”

The crowd of course, cheered as Nick mentally _bolted_ up those mental stairs, past the laughing pictures of his own family, refusing to shake the man’s extended hand, and stood up so quickly he had gotten a bit of head rush and nearly fell back down. He ran off the stage, his hands cupped protectively over but the damage was done, everyone surely had seen how a certain area of his pants had darkened.

“You know, my mother always said _I_ was raised by wolves…” the hypnotist started to speak, return the attention back to him as Nick ran past the ushers and burst through the theater doors, but the laughter was hot on his heels behind him.

“Nick, wait!”

And so was Greg, who followed him all the way to the bathroom, where immediately slammed into the sink, splashed water onto his face.

“You…okay?”

Nick looked up and saw Greg standing behind him, an eyebrow cocked up in concern, his hands wringing at each other.

“Fine, G, just fine. Just…just a really fucked up dream, I’m gonna wake up any second now,” Nick reassured him, before rubbing his face with more water, slapping his cheeks.

There was silence for a few moments, before Greg spoke again.

“I hate to be the one to break it to you, Nick, but…that was real.” 

Nick remained silent for a minute, before he slammed his hand flat against the mirror.

“Son of a bitch!” he shouted, and it took all in his power–and Greg’s power, as he caught the hand that had balled into a fist–from breaking the reflection entirely. 

“Hey, hey, let’s just…go home. Get you some…fresh clothes.”

“Yeah. Home. Sounds good,” Nick gulped. “Hey, Greg, you think we can really do it?”

“Do what?”

“Arrest that punk-ass hypnotist?”

“If we call and tell Brass, I’m sure he’d find a way,” Greg chuckled. “Man has an iron will. You do too.”

“Obviously not.”

“Hey, if it were me up there, I would have cried,” Greg pointed out as they walked out of the bathroom and headed to the parking garage. 

“I pissed my fucking pants, Greg.”

“Yeah, well, everyone was only laughing cause it was so uncomfortable, I’m sure they didn’t mean–”

“Hey, Nick!” a man shouted down the hall, having emerged from the theater doors. He didn’t say another word, just barked gruffly before letting out a mock-howl, “Awoooooo!”

Which flipped a switch in Greg, who stepped in front of Nick as he had placed his hands over his dampened clothing. 

“Fuck off, man!” Greg snapped.

“Sir, I’m afraid we can’t tolerate such language–” a security guard began.

“Can it! We’re leaving, you don’t have to be such a dickbag about it!” Greg shouted at the innocent guard, who, hopefully, had no idea what had transpired to elicit such teasing.

“Just…leave it, G. C’mon,” Nick groaned, resisting the urge to throw his own tantrum, and wishing he could just change his wet clothing. 

“I really do have half a mind to call _someone_ about this, none of this was right! And to think people _pay_ to see this!” 

“I’m sure Grissom would have some profound insight on this,” Nick muttered as he peeled off his suit jacket to use as a make-shift towel under his car seat. 

“Yeah, he’d tell us not to play with fire and expect not to get burned.”

“Who needs to pay to see a comedian when I got you for free?” Nick smirked. 


End file.
